


Easy If You Let It

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Introspection, M/M, Self-Discovery, and the how to be in public stuff, and the power and control stuff, figuring out the sex stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: The continuation of“Aware”.You can read this without having read the first part. I’ve included a synopsis of part one at the beginning.About the rating: the Explicit stuff is in one chunk, and I’ve marked it off, so you can skip it if you prefer an M-rated story.





	Easy If You Let It

**Author's Note:**

> _A reminder of the story_ , as it was January when I posted [“Aware”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13276188). Or for those who didn’t read it, but want to read this (you totally could, it’s not hard to grasp what’s going on): 
> 
> In part one, Steve finally admitted that he has feelings for Danny, even though he’s always assumed he’s straight and hasn’t had a relationship with a man before, though he has had sexual experiences with guys. Danny admitted he’s had feelings for Steve for a while now, and he IDs as bi, but pointed out that labels just don’t matter if you love someone. Danny suggested they slowly start to explore where a relationship between them might go. We left Steve and Danny out on the lanai, having done some lovely kissing... they were about to head into the house and “see where this goes....” This story takes up right where we left them.
> 
> _If you want to skip the Explicit section_ : It's towards the end, and the beginning of it is marked * and the end is marked ** and it’s 1,300 words long, but there’s not much plot in there, so you can skip it and not feel like you’re missing out on story. (On the other hand, it isn’t _super_ explicit, so if you’ve been fine with my version of explicit so far, you’ll probably be okay with it.)

They don’t get much further, once they’re inside on the sofa, than some fairly teenagerish fumblings, mostly because Steve lasts about as long as a teenager. Which leaves him utterly embarrassed and flustered, and leaves Danny trying to hold him back from going any further.

“You have to get comfortable with things slowly, alright? I don’t want you getting over-excited and then regretting it.”

Steve huffs off a hurt laugh, and Danny regrets his word choice and apologizes.

“Sleep?”

“I really don’t know if I can....”

“I’m willing to bet you will. Let’s try. You can hold me....”

And maybe it’s that—the very simple fact that Danny’s not going to leave him alone, not even after that... but it pushes him, fuels him, and gives him an idea.

“Okay, but we’re showering first.” Which, probably the heat in his voice when he says it warns Danny what kind of shower he means, but it puts Steve in slightly more comfortable territory, and there’s probably something to be said for that.

Given Danny’s reactions to Steve’s actions in said shower, yeah, it’s safe to assume he was right, and that makes him infinitely more comfortable, not to mention more confident. Which means a lot.

So, they’re both at least a little bit satisfied (and maybe that early release had been a good idea, because his second was that much better), though if the way they grab for each other once they’re in bed is an indicator, that satisfaction probably won’t last the night, but they do get into bed and try to sleep. 

Steve winds up telling Danny stories of military school, memories having come to him in the shower, and Danny doesn’t make a big deal about the fact that all of Steve’s early sexual explorations had been with guys, but he also doesn’t offer to share his, and Steve figures that means his weren’t. But they’re dozy and they nod off, only to wake not long after, because Danny is very cuddly in bed and in his sleep he wraps himself around Steve like an octopus, and Steve feels Danny’s interest pressing into his side, and it floods him with such happiness, he nuzzles Danny awake with sloppy kisses and offers to “do something about that.”

“Can we please be a little less cliché with our language, babe?” Danny mutters sleepily. But when it becomes clear what Steve has in mind, he disentangles himself and sits up. “What did I say about taking things slowly?” He looks worried, a little frightened even.

“Danny. I’m not really sure taking it slow is the right way to go.” He’s trying not to be too obvious about what he wants, but he can’t help it. His lips are wet from licking them, he’s tugging at Danny’s waistband, and his own interest is utterly apparent. “Please? It’s like, now I’ve been given a taste...” he shivers at the word and Danny looks like he’s coming undone. “I need more.”

Danny’s expression says pretty clearly that he thinks one or both of them will regret this, but Steve’s not really interested in Danny’s perennial, obsessive worry right now. He’s much more interested in... well. Getting a better taste.

“Have you even done this before?” Danny gasps, as Steve crawls lower on the bed and fumbles with Danny’s boxers.

“No, but I know what I like,” and he’s pretty sure that’s an obvious reply, but he’s not feeling especially witty at the moment, because yeah, he has quite a bit of familiarity with other guys’ dicks in showers, but this really is a whole new ballgame. Fortunately, Steve’s always liked new ballgames... and then he tells himself to shut the fuck up before he thinks something even more banal and embarrassing.

It’s different from with a woman, for obvious reasons, but his enjoyment of it is... actually, his enjoyment of it is different, and he tries not to jump to thinking it’s so much better, because that might have a lot to do with Danny’s hands trying desperately to grab onto his hair, his fingers pressing into his scalp... so beautifully torn between wanting to manage Steve through this, to hold him back, make him explore slowly, gradually, comfortably... and being so moved, so swept away himself, and wanting to just allow that to flood him. Steve loves that he can tell all of that just from his mouth on Danny, and it doesn’t take long before he realizes he’s not going to need to be taken care of. In fact, it’s Danny’s stunningly vocal response to his own undoing that provides Steve with his, and he’s out of bed and cleaning them both up with a speed that clearly stuns Danny, who also clearly wants Steve back next to him... and when Steve realizes why, he grins. Hugely.

“What. You want...” he licks his lips again and thinks he’s going to need chapstick soon. Not bothering with fresh shorts for either of them, Steve lowers himself onto Danny, pressing their bare chests together and rubbing before giving Danny what he wants and kissing him until neither of them are breathing.

“So much for going slow....” Danny mutters, and shoves Steve off him, then yanks him on his side, tucking Steve’s hand at his heart and settling his bare ass against Steve’s groin.

They sleep like that till morning, when the expected situation pulls them both out of sleep and back into the shower.

It’s not till they’re dressed and downstairs, Steve making coffee, Danny perched on the counter watching him closely, that Steve notices Danny’s concern.

“What.”

“I dunno. You just... took to that really easily.”

“And that’s not a good thing?”

Danny shrugs slightly. “It’s not a bad thing, obviously. And I guess it makes sense that you’re comfortable with the physical aspect of it.”

Ah. Maybe it’s that post-sex, clear-headed thing, but Steve sees right away where Danny’s going with this.

“Meaning it’ll be the emotional side that I’ll have more issues with.” He doesn’t even bother phrasing it as a question.

“Maybe,” Danny says slowly. “Maybe not.” Steve walks closer, hands Danny his coffee, which he sets aside, grabbing instead for Steve’s hand. “You up for going out tonight?”

Something in Danny’s voice warns Steve that he’s thinking of a test. His pride, not to mention natural competitive side, both push him.

“Absolutely,” he whispers to Danny’s lips, then sinks in for more of his new favorite thing.

He’d thought Danny might have chosen a gay bar, but he doesn’t. He picks a place they’ve never been, though—a concession, he figures, to the newness of this. There’s really not a whole lot of difference, Steve thinks, from how they typically are for a night out, and how he’s feeling with Danny at his side now. Well, other than he’s thinking of getting home and getting Danny naked. And he catches, he thinks, a couple people eyeing Danny, and the surge of possessive fire within his chest catches him a little off guard. Danny notices, and Steve sees a secretive smile on Danny’s lips that curls in his gut with pleasure.

They sit in a booth, close, so close to each other, and Steve’s arm is slung around the back of the booth. Just. Like. They. Always. Do.

He can’t decide if he thinks Danny’s posture is the same or not. Until the waitress comes over to take their drink order and something about the way Danny moves against him seems... different. It’s not really till then that it occurs to Steve that he doesn’t actually know that much about how Danny typically is with his dates. Danny knows his, a little at least—he’d seen him with Catherine a few times. Thing is, on-a-date-Steve is basically how Steve usually is with Danny. As soon as he thinks it, he laughs.

“What’s that, babe?”

“I was just realizing that how I am on a date is how I always am with you. You know, _not_ on a date.”

“Yeah, I wondered about that.”

“How are you, usually, on a date?”

Danny grins, pleased no doubt, that Steve doesn’t know. He could so easily torture him over this, Steve thinks. And from the look on Danny’s face, that could actually be something he’s planning on doing.

When their drinks come, Danny offers a toast.

“To new beginnings,” he says softly, clinking his glass against Steve’s.

Steve meets his gaze levelly, takes a sip, but he can’t resist. “I thought we were avoiding the clichés?”

Danny chuckles warmly. “Fair enough. Here’s to figuring out how to turn our friendship into something else?”

“Better,” Steve replies, and he doesn’t expect Danny to be shocked when he leans closer and kisses him, firmly, not just a peck... but he is. When Steve sits back, he shakes his head slightly at Danny’s stunned expression. “You really don’t think I can handle this, do you.”

“I just keep expecting you to want to go more slowly,” Danny says, almost under his breath, and it’s a good thing Steve’s absolutely solid in his belief of Danny’s pull to him, because a less confident man might start to wonder if it isn’t Danny who has the doubts. Something in Steve’s expression must clue Danny in to that thought, because he moves closer and puts his drink down, settling his hand at the side of Steve’s face. “Okay, maybe I keep thinking I need to lead you more through this, only you seem to be the one doing the leading. Maybe I’m not totally sure what to make of that.” And as if to prove he’s going to try to stop worrying, he kisses Steve, and then stays that little bit closer, letting his hand rest on Steve’s thigh.

They order appetizers from the waitress who’s been tactfully lingering nearby but not pressuring them, and Steve begins to get a glimpse of Danny’s suave date self. He’s thoughtful and solicitous, offering Steve the prime bits of the nibbles, saucing them for him, plopping bites in his mouth, letting his fingers stray a little too close to Steve’s lips. A lot of it is in his eyes. Steve realizes Danny has tended to avoid his glances at times, and in all fairness he knows now that some of those were more heated than he’d realized, so he can’t really blame Danny for that. But he’s not avoiding them now, he’s instigating them, and it’s almost more intensity than Steve can take.

Not that it makes him uncomfortable in the way he imagines Danny might assume. He _is_ aware that they are in some sense on display, though the only one he thinks is truly paying attention is their waitress. The restaurant is full, but the crowd is mellow, couples and small groups, and most of them are focused on their own tables. Steve’s never minded an audience anyway, and being with Danny isn’t making him feel any different. But it’s over-stimulating, being the center of Danny’s focused attention. And honestly, Steve’s used to being the one _giving_ the attention. He’s far less accustomed to _getting_ it.... And that’s when he realizes that probably, that is exactly Danny’s point.

So he lets him. He accepts those fed bites of steak, those mushroom caps, those puffy potato things with the amazing sauce. And he has to admit, Danny’s good. He manages a proprietary solicitousness without stepping over the line into patronizing or demeaning in any way. He’s doing it because he’s focusing on his date, because he wants him to feel special. It’s a subtle divergence from Steve’s slightly more grandiose form of gentlemanly date behavior, the pulling out of the chair, the opening of the door, the ordering of the wine.... Danny doesn’t make any assumptions about what Steve wants. He doesn’t make condescending suggestions, or say “Trust me, you’ll love this.” He avoids the cliché completely. And yet he makes Steve feel like the absolute center of the universe in a completely wonderful way.

Danny notices when Steve fully gives into it, and Steve can see the re-assessing click through Danny’s mind. He tries not to be too offended that Danny’s still making the assumption that Steve won’t take easily to these shifts, these plays with their power structure. It only makes him more determined to prove Danny wrong.

When their main courses arrive, Danny cuts slices off of each of his dishes and puts them on a side plate, offering it to Steve without comment. Now, it’s worth noting that typically Steve takes what he wants from Danny’s plate without asking. And typically, Danny swats him away, sometimes viscously. So, if Steve looks quizzically at Danny when he slides that plate the three inches closer to Steve, making it obvious it’s for him... well, you can’t exactly blame him for being curious.

Danny’s self aware enough to smirk in response. “I’ve found that _some_ people are too polite to ask, so I always offer, without making a big deal about it. It usually goes over really well,” he admits, and if he sounds a little smug, well, that only delights Steve.

“That’s really sweet, Danno. You must be a wonderful date.”

“Hang on, _must be_? Are you not getting that now?” It’s mock indignation, but in all fairness, sometimes it’s difficult to tell, Danny’s tone being what it so often is.

Steve settles into being more comfortable after that, as does Danny. He’s still solicitous, and sweet, but he’s a little more _just Danny_ , and Steve counts that as a minor victory.

They order two desserts to share, and that’s really not anything new for them, though the fact that Steve can’t help himself from kissing the chocolate sauce off Danny’s lips is substantially different. And when Danny goes to grab for Steve’s hand as they walk to the car, well, that’s something entirely new, and he wonders if it’s a date thing, or if it’s something specific to this situation they’re now in, because it doesn’t feel like it fits with Danny’s date-persona. It feels spontaneous and a little needy, and that’s not in line with the image Danny strives to present when he’s being the ideal date.

And that, Steve realizes, is where Danny is stumbling. Because it’s one thing to perform as the ideal date for someone you’re wooing. But Danny has no wooing to do with Steve, and it makes sense that’s something Danny will struggle with. So maybe he does it as a concession to that, or maybe because he wants to, but about half-way to the car, Steve pulls on Danny’s hand and stops him. When he settles close, holding Danny as still as he can without forcing, he reaches a hand around the back of Danny’s head and pulls him, slowly, in for a kiss.

“That was a lovely first date, Danny. Thank you.”

Danny smiles, but it’s a lopsided smile, and Steve figures he was right about the source of Danny’s discomfort. “Yeah, I guess,” he replies, a little bit despondently. “But let’s go home now.” And Steve thinks then that maybe Danny’s giving in, just a little, to letting Steve drive things at his own natural pace. It’s not something Danny’s entirely unused to, after all, and maybe it will be Danny’s own comfort zone if he’ll just let it.

He does give in to Steve’s pace when they get home; he lets Steve explore his body, lets him control everything, goes utterly pliant in his hands, at his touch, under his lips... it’s the most heady, seductive, power-trippy thing Steve’s ever experienced, and he’s determined to make as much of it as he can. Already knowing he’s fond of using his mouth, he savors his second taste of Danny, then once Danny’s well and truly relaxed, he heads back for something he is more familiar with, and begins to open Danny up first with his tongue, then slowly with his fingers. Agonizingly slowly, according to the words coming out of Danny’s mouth, and eventually Danny gives in—or whatever the opposite is—and he wrests control back away from Steve, shoves him on his back and takes over, lowering himself a lot faster than really is probably good for him. It’s the first time they’ve gone this far, and Steve hadn’t been in a hurry to get there. He’s done it before, of course, with both men and women, but he’s not done it with Danny, and that’s the biggest difference there could be. Still, there’s a sizable part of his brain that’s thrilled Danny’s back in control, and not because he thinks he needs to be for Steve’s sake, but because he wants it—needs it—for himself. So, if Steve’s lying there looking smug as all get out while Danny rides him, well, it’s because he’s just so fucking pleased. If there’s part of him that’s secretly delighted that Danny’s the one who lost control, who rushed the pace, who... well, we’ll just keep that between Steve and the crack he notices on the ceiling when his eyes nearly roll back in his head because of how goddamn good Danny feels.  

After, while Steve’s kissing Danny down from it, soothing his hands all over him—shushing him, nearly—Danny does at least admit that maybe he’s been going about this wrong.

“Maybe slower isn’t better. Except in driving,” he adds quickly, when he senses Steve’s about to speak.

He laughs that bit off and goes in for what he really wants. “Good. Then I want to work on something I haven’t done before.” He tries to say it with his eyes, but Danny’s switched back into teaching mode, and just looks blankly at him as though he has no idea what he means. Steve rolls his eyes. “Me, I want you to fuck me.”

Danny seems to be waiting for more, but when Steve doesn’t offer it, he prompts: “Well, you’ve got the opening someone up thing down remarkably well, so... have you never done that on yourself?”

Steve thinks his cheeks probably heat a little. “I uh,” he stammers, then pauses on a sigh. “The thing is... it’s different on yourself. The angle’s all weird... I think I’m not flexible enough.”

“They do make things to help, you know....” Danny’s smirking at him again, and Steve wants so much to do what Danny sometimes does when the tables are turned (as they so often are) and Steve’s smirking at him—meaning, swat annoyedly at him. “Lube... devices....” The smirk broadens, and Steve does lash out with one attempt at a smack, but Danny’s got pretty awesome reflexes and he catches the blow before it lands, using it to pull Steve into a heated kiss. “Or I could use my tongue on you. Is that what you want?” Steve groans involuntarily into Danny’s mouth, giving his hand away. “You could ask, you know,” Danny whispers to Steve’s lips, amusement plain in his tone, and it helps settle him, Steve can tell, into feeling that little bit of control that Steve thinks Danny probably needs. Which is when Steve notices that he very much enjoys giving over that control to Danny. And maybe that should surprise him, but it doesn’t.  

“We can work on that tomorrow. Right now we really should sleep,” Danny murmurs, tucking Steve’s arm around his chest, holding Steve’s hand tightly in his, and settling himself against Steve’s back. The flipside, as it were, of their first set of spoons, and Steve already knows he likes that, likes both ways. Likes to not always be the one holding the reins, but likes to be allowed it when he needs it. And maybe Danny’s going to struggle a little with the concept, but Steve knows, like he knows so many things about Danny better than Danny does himself, Steve knows Danny’ll find his comfort with it—if he’d just give in to it, it’s probably already there.

Sunday morning they wake—sleepy, lazy—and settle, still half asleep, for pulling each other off and nuzzling against each other while avoiding kissing and that whole morning breath thing.

“Come surfing with me? Or do you need to go home and do stuff?”

Danny’s running his hand along Steve’s chest and arms, tracing rough fingers over the tattoo Steve’s guessing is Danny’s favorite.

“I’m not going home,” Danny mutters.

He doesn’t dare hope he means _not ever_ , but he’ll take _for today_.

“Good.” And he gets up to brush his teeth, because the not kissing is starting to really get to him. He brings a cup of mouthwash to Danny. “Rinse,” he demands, maybe a bit more harshly than he means, and he’s about to apologize when he notices Danny seems to have liked it, despite himself. Testing the waters, Steve teases: “You know, I’ve always suspected you actually like me bossing you around....”

Danny carefully spits the mouthwash back into the cup and hands it back to Steve. “Babe. There is a huge difference between liking it in the office and liking it in the bedroom.” His words are steady, but the look in his eyes is a little uncertain.

“Okay,” Steve says, smiling around his toothbrush as he heads back to the bathroom. Ideas are going to be floating around in his head all day.

They eat a quick breakfast then head out to their usual weekend surf spot before it gets too crowded. It’s not till they’ve been there for a bit, and are rubbing sunscreen on each other’s backs as they usually do, that it occurs to Steve that Queen’s Beach is technically considered the gay beach. It emboldens him, and he bends to brush a kiss to Danny’s neck as he rubs lotion across his shoulders. Danny is taken off guard and barely suppresses the shudder that passes over his skin. He turns to look at Steve, who just shrugs.

“Hey, it’s allowed.”

Danny’s face softens, he smiles warmly, then nods to the water. “Shall we?”

Steve grins and grabs his board. “Race ya!” and sprints for the waves.

They’re sitting out past the wave break, waiting for a good swell, and Steve’s noticing the people around them more than he typically does. Which is when it occurs to him that he doesn’t ordinarily notice the other surfers because he’s usually watching only Danny. That does something kinda funny to his heart, and he wonders if Danny’s right to worry that he’s seemingly taking so easily to this kind of huge change.

The thing is, it just doesn’t _feel_ like a huge change. He’s out here with Danny, like so many other Sundays. After, they’ll probably go back to his and grill something while lying in the grass in the shade drinking beers. And, maybe they’ll make out, or even have sex on the lawn, and yeah, that’s different. But... somehow it just feels so natural, so _right_. Instinctive, like noticing the swell of the wave that’s approaching, and knowing this is the one they want—he’s about to tell Danny, but he’s right there with him, having sensed it at the same moment, and, well. Steve’s heart fills with warmth and happiness, and the fact they both hit the wave just right and get a perfect ride out of it just caps it off. This is it. This is what he wants. This is everything.

They surf for longer than he imagined they would, considering how little sleep they’ve gotten lately, but eventually they give each other the last wave look. And as they head in, Steve’s feeling bold, he’s feeling swept up in all of it, and he’s feeling supported by the reputation of the beach. He might also be feeling a little like testing Danny like Danny’d tested _him_ last night.

So when they get half way up the sand to their stuff, he drops his board and yanks Danny against him, their salty wet chests pressed firmly together. He doesn’t rush the kiss, even holds Danny back from trying to sink into it. When he does kiss Danny, he lets it be slow, lingering—tender, even—rather than the rough, quick, athletic kiss he imagines Danny expected.

He’s rewarded with another of those surprised grins from Danny, and he wants to tuck it away, save it somewhere special. And he tries desperately not to think that he’ll need it, because he knows it’s only a matter of time before he disappoints Danny....

They stop off at the store on the way home, to grab some steaks to toss on the grill, and Danny insists on getting some actual lube, rather than the oil they’ve been using. Steve, in turn, insists on kissing Danny in the produce aisle, which makes Danny blush.

“You don’t have to keep proving it, you know.”

Steve grins. “Maybe I want to.” And kisses him again.

For some reason that makes Danny need to go find cookies.

While Steve grills, Danny makes a salad, and he isn’t in the house for long, but Steve leaves the steaks to wander into the kitchen and disrupt Danny’s prepping and slicing by wrapping himself around Danny from behind, relishing the way their bodies fit together, how perfectly they align, and he wonders how he’s never noticed it before, this meant-to-be-ness of their bodies, this absolute sublime way Danny fits, slotted, just under his chin. It makes him feel protective, more than a little possessive. And he thinks maybe it should worry him. But part of his brain reminds him that he’s essentially felt it all along. The territorialness, the sense of “he’s mine.”

Still, no small part of Steve wants to mark Danny as his somehow, and it is slightly disconcerting, if only because it’s simply not a feeling he’s ever had before about another person. And because of that, he really doesn’t have any idea what to do with it. And (and there are faint warning beacons going off in his head) he doesn’t really feel like he has any idea how it might make him behave. In public, on a case, in front of the team. He’s very aware that he’s only had two outings to be what he’s not really wanting to call _openly gay_ , because he’s still convinced it’s not about that, it’s not about him kissing a guy, it’s about him kissing Danny, and maybe he’s over-simplifying, and kissing on the gay beach was probably a safe thing to have done.

But it’s not that—the public affection—he’s unsure about. He’s never really minded about touching and being close to other men in public (especially not Danny). It’s something else, and it feels worryingly dangerous. But the way Danny moves back against him as he slices tomatoes is distracting his train of thought, so he makes a note for himself to be aware of how he is in public with Danny. Considering he’d been paying all that attention to how his body reacted to Danny before all this started, he’s used to running the extra mental programs anyway. He feels vaguely uneasy, but also pretty sure he’s just going to have to wait and see how it plays out.

Needing reassurance after that, he pulls Danny around and into a kiss, and he tries to both take from it what he needs, and also give Danny, somehow with his tongue and lips, the reassurance he wants him to feel, that Steve is going to be okay with this, regardless of any concerns Danny still has. And he knows he has them.

They eat out at the table under the trees, and by the time they’re done, the sun is still high up in the sky, but Steve just doesn’t care. He can’t stop thinking about that bottle of lube, and he wants to feel closer to Danny. But he doesn’t want Danny to feel harassed, or pushed, or... so he contents himself with some of the more open flirting he thinks he’s always just held himself back from doing. He rubs a bare foot up Danny’s leg, touching with permission sending shivers of delight down his spine. Danny lets him for a bit, but then he slowly turns to meet his hopefully-seductive gaze, and Steve sees that Danny’s barely holding back a grin.

“There something you’re after, babe?”

“Um....” Steve had hoped he was being sexy and playful, but Danny seems to feel differently.

Sensing, evidently, the disappointment in Steve’s lack of words, Danny scoots closer, elbows on his knees, and leans in, taking Steve’s hands. “Look, there’s this thing I need you to be able to do, alright? I need you to very openly, very clearly, with very specific words tell me what it is you want to do, when you want to do it, and how you want to do it. How far you want to go, how fast, how much. It’s the only way you’re getting me to do this. You have got to be clear about what you want, and you have to ask for it. Deal?”

His words are strong, but they’re not surprising. Steve thinks probably he should have known better, and maybe he did, and part of him’s glad that Danny’s going to lay down rules like that—he’s pretty sure it will be good for them both. Steve gulps and swallows. Knowing that doesn’t make it much easier to get the words out, but probably that’s the point. If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.

*

“Okay. You’re right.” He takes a deep breath, fights against the desire to say it with his eyes closed, meets Danny’s as openly as he can. “I want you to work me open, with your tongue or your fingers, and just see how far I can get. I want you to be able to fuck me, but I don’t know how long I’ll take to get comfortably open for that and I don’t want to rush it. I’d rather take our time and do it well. I’m not really interested in hurting myself down there.”

Danny nods. “Good. Thank you.”

And just as Steve’s starting to think this has taken the sexiness out of it, Danny stands, pulls Steve to his feet. His voice is low, almost rough; he’s clearly moved, and it goes directly to Steve’s heart, and then floods lower. “I’m glad you want to work towards that, babe, and I’m glad you’re willing to be patient, and just so you know, while I love being fucked and I love fucking, I happen to think that getting there really is half the fun, so I’m going to make this as enjoyable for you as I can, and don’t ever doubt that I’m enjoying myself just as much as you are.”

It’s some of the hotter things that have ever been whispered in Steve’s ear, and his legs have gone to butter just from that, which he figures might help ease things already.

Danny, true to his word, is the absolute picture of patience. Of course he would be, Steve manages to think, as he’s nearly lost to the sensations as Danny slowly taunts and teases at his hole before one lube-slicked fingertip slides just that little bit in, and the sound that comes out of Steve’s own mouth shocks him utterly.

He’s swearing and his body wants to thrash about, and Danny stops, leaving the fingertip where it is, but coming up to kiss and soothe Steve, muttering soft words that might be actual words, or just nonsense.

“Oh, fuck. I had no idea it felt so fucking good,” Steve finally says, whimpering into Danny’s mouth—or possibly words like that. He’s so completely overwhelmed.

“Trust me, it only gets better,” Danny says softly against Steve’s lips, before kissing him as though his reaction is the hottest thing Danny’s seen in a long time. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Steve knows Danny wants words for this, so he lets himself settle, looks Danny in the eye, and says “Yes, please.”

He’s rewarded with what has to be the most wonderful expression he’s ever seen plastered across the face of Detective Danny Williams. It’s somewhere between proud and pleased and gratified and so fucking utterly turned on. It’s perfectly Danny, and perfectly hot, and Steve’s afraid for a split second it’s enough to make him come without anything else.

As though Danny can tell all that, he waits till Steve’s more settled, and then slowly starts to slide his finger in further. Steve makes an effort to relax into it, rather than fight against it—he’s familiar with how that feels from the other end, so he knows how important it is—it’s just so completely different when it’s being done to you, and he really feels so over-stimulated from that slick slide inside of him, he can’t imagine being able to take two fingers, let alone three... let alone Danny’s dick. And he really shouldn’t have thought that, because it makes him nearly vibrate with need, and he’s certain he won’t last long, especially not with the way Danny’s fondling his balls, barely touching, but letting him know he’s near Steve’s dick, which he thinks must be leaking by now. As if prompted by that thought, Danny licks just across the slit, and the slurpy sound he makes seems to indicate that, yes, Steve is indeed leaking.

Just as Steve’s about to make a comment about the difference between taking it slow and moving at a glacial pace, Danny starts to pull his finger out, and Steve stutters, feels like his whole world is caving in. He wants to push back, keep Danny’s finger inside of him pretty much forever. Each millimeter of retraction leaves him feeling bereft, but then he feels that second finger being added as Danny slowly starts to slide back in, and this time Steve knows he is fighting it, only he can’t convince his body to let go. Danny’s very aware of what’s going on, and he puts his other hand on Steve’s belly, holding him down, trying to force him back into the mattress, and he slides the one finger back in, easily, bending down at the same time for another gentle suck at the tip of Steve’s by now weeping dick.  

The thing is, Steve’s going taut with need, and he knows he’s squeezing Danny’s finger—and not just because he doesn’t want him to take it out again. He’s just too far gone with wanting Danny, needing more, and he’s not going to call it torture, that’s far too loaded a term, but it’s damn near to excruciating, and he was the one insisting he wanted to go slow. He’s also very very aware that there’s one thing Danny’s been very carefully avoiding, and he’s pretty sure he knows why.

“ _Danny_ ,” he whines.

And of course, that sound produces a broad grin on Danny’s face, but it also produces Danny’s body coming up to rest atop his, those salty sweet lips pressing into his, his tongue swiping across Steve’s teeth, his own teeth biting softly at Steve’s lips.

“Yeah, babe?” He asks, sounding more breathy than even Steve feels. His feeling is more _sharp_ , Danny feels like he’s melting into Steve, and that makes his need even more intense.

“I just need... I can’t last... I need, ugh—I need to come, buddy, please.” It’s words, and it’s direct, but it’s not explicit enough, and he knows it.

And, he’s right, because Danny’s holding that finger perfectly still, which—don’t get him wrong—feels fucking amazing. But he wants more, needs more, and damn it, Danny’s going to make him say it.

“Just... goddammit, Danny, you’re purposely avoiding my prostate, just go for it, put me out of my misery.” He knows it will be his undoing, he’s simply that stimulated, but he needs to be let down from this before he implodes.

“Misery, huh?”

And, fuck, he should have known Danny’d make something of that.

“Danny, _please_.”

There must be something about the way he says it, and he wishes after that he was coherent enough to remember how he sounded, because it does something to Danny, who makes the most amazing sound Steve’s ever heard, and as he crushes their mouths together, he twists his finger inside of Steve, and he knows exactly what he’s doing as he brushes against Steve’s prostate once, twice, and three times and Steve’s coming completely undone, falling out of the kiss as he feels as though his body leaves the bed as he convulses around Danny’s finger, spurting more come than he’s ever felt shoot out of him in his entire life, and it just keeps going, and he realizes Danny’s coming too, just from that, and he feels like he might actually pass out.

Once he can breathe again, he finds himself wondering, wishing he knew, how much of that was from the prostate stimulation (which he hates himself for never having experienced before while at the same time he’s so so glad his first is with Danny), and how much is because it’s Danny. Everything is Danny. And everything is so totally different now, and he is so so fucking relieved.

**

They lie there, in a sticky, tangled mess, panting and kissing and shushing and whispering things that probably mean their undying love, or it could just be _get your elbow out of my belly_ but it feels like undying love, and probably for them it is much the same. But neither of them seems inclined to move, and Steve knows they’d both regret falling asleep like this, as they’d be painfully stuck together after if they did. So he tries to convince Danny that a nice hot shower will be a good thing. He must already be getting himself a reputation, because Danny mutters “Not one of _your_ showers” and swats him away.

Steve chuckles warmly and gives in, using his gratitude and no small amount of affection for the wonderful man collapsed in a heap on his bed, to get himself up out of it and to the bathroom for a damp towel.

Once he’s got himself and Danny cleaned up, he’s the one—finally—to pick their sleeping position, and he lingers over it for probably too long, but he honestly can’t decide which he wants. His protective, claiming, possessive side wins out (as it so often does with Danny, so much more now), and he settles himself around Danny like a shell, like a shield, like a bunker, pulling him in tight, squeezing probably a little too hard, if the grunt that escapes a mostly sleeping Danny is anything to go by.

“That was amazing, buddy, thank you so much.”

“Mmm’glad babe,” Danny slurs sleepily, nestling himself back further against Steve’s embrace as though he can’t get close enough, which makes Steve’s heart soar impossibly.

Falling asleep with a smile on your face is one of those things that’s always sounded horribly cheesy to Steve, but he’s pretty sure he falls asleep with a gigantic smile plastered across his whole face.

Danny heads home early Monday morning, to shower and get clothes, and to pack a bag, at Steve’s request, just in case.

“You can go home for the night, Danno, if it’d be easier. As long as you come over one night this week... or if I can come over...? Obviously you’ll be home Wednesday with the kids, and I probably—” Danny kisses him before he can finish the thought.

“I want you to come over on Wednesday. We can decide later if you stay or not, but I want you to come be with the kids.”

Steve grins and tries not to let himself think that having a closer relationship with the kiddos he already loves will be a huge side benefit of this new relationship.

There’s one moment, on a case that day, where Steve almost holds Danny back, almost puts too much focus on Danny and not enough on the suspect they’re trailing. He catches himself in time, and bites his tongue to get himself to focus, but he can’t ignore the klaxons in his head that his reflexes are so ingrained and so instinctive, that there may come a time where he’s simply not able to control it, where his body will make that decision for him, and just maybe, it could spell disaster.

After the case, they’re standing around in the shade of one of the banyan trees at the edge of the parking lot, just kind of chatting as they sometimes do when they’re not really ready to head back up to start the paperwork, and Steve slings his arm easily around Danny’s shoulder—he doesn’t even think about it, just is operating on autopilot, doesn’t even realize he’s done it till Danny’s hand comes up and grabs his, holding it. It’s a subtle shift, a slight variation on their usual stance in a moment like this, and Steve’s not entirely sure any of the others will notice, and if they do, he doesn’t know if they’ll think anything of it, but he does go just a little bit stiff in response, and hates himself for that, because he knows that’s the kind of thing Danny is watching for, waiting to pronounce some kind of judgment on, assign some level of meaning to.

Sure enough, Danny’s hand starts to loosen its hold, no doubt in reaction to Steve’s sudden stiff posture, but before Danny can let go, Steve’s holding on tightly, squeezing it reassuringly, and he forces his body to relax, pulls Danny in closer. He feels Danny melt a little bit into him, and he hears the faintest sigh. It makes Steve want to kiss him, at least a peck on the cheek, but they haven’t talked about this yet—how open they’ll be with the team at what point. So he doesn’t. But he wants to, and that want starts to fill him till he thinks he might burst with it.

Later, when Danny’s in Steve’s office helping with the paperwork like they always do, he apologizes.

“Don’t, Danny, don’t ever say you’re sorry for showing affection. I just wasn’t prepared. We should probably talk about that stuff, though. Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I assume that wouldn’t have been a good idea....”

Danny’s smiling at him, so sweetly. “Yeah? You’d have kissed me in front of the whole team just like that, for no reason?”

“There’s always a reason, buddy. It’s called _because I want to kiss you_. And right now it’s practically constant. Maybe that’s because I spent so long denying it, I don’t know. Maybe it will get easier, but right now, it’s driving me right up the damn wall. As for the team, I’m not worried about them. But I do think we should probably prepare them first, rather than springing it on them....”

Danny looks around the offices. “They’ve all got their heads buried in paperwork. I think... if you can control yourself... just one little kiss?” The smile on his face is so stinking adorable, Steve’s worried his heart might melt right out of his chest.

He smirks. “Control myself, huh? That something you worry about?”

“ _Constantly_.”

And he knows Danny means it, means he’s used to spending a great deal of energy being concerned about Steve’s on-the-job actions, but he’s twisting that to this other meaning, and the heat in his voice about it.... Well, maybe Danny’s making some peace with the whole Steve’s-speed-at-the-relationship-stuff, and the who-holds-the-reins thing, because he sounds equal parts resigned and turned on, and it sets something afire within Steve’s chest and he scoots his chair closer to where Danny’s perched on the edge of his desk and tugs him down for a light kiss.

Danny’s the one who whimpers when Steve pulls away, and he doesn’t even look sorry. Steve takes a deep breath, and nods. “You know, buddy. I think we’re going to be just fine.”


End file.
